A Daydream Away From Calamity
by we4retheincrowd
Summary: angst/sad jennabelle fic from my tumblr. I write on there more often, my url is f-uhrmans if you wanna check out my things on there


You know you could never get Jennifer Lawrence. Never in a million years. She's the most gorgeous person on the planet, with her clear, crystal blue eyes. Her beautiful blonde locks that still manage to look amazing regardless of the fact it's been dyed so much for countless roles. That adorable, goofy grin that emerges when she finds something hilarious, not that you'd ever point out how cute you think it is. She's a famous, Oscar winning actress. You're a nobody compared to her. Sure, you act too. You've been in a few things, just nothing big. You're nowhere near as famous as her. The worst thing, however, is the fact she's 6 and a half years your elder. You're 16. She's 23. It'd never work. She's also got a boyfriend. They broke up at one point, and you were overjoyed. Although, you knew it wouldn't last. You were right. They'd been together for two years. She loves him, not you. You despise him for that. Jen doesn't seem to care about the age difference. She still considers you one of her closest friends. Tuesday 19th of November, 2013. You get a phone call. It's her. She asks you to come over, and you accept immediately, even though you're in the middle of your school work. Quickly, you lace up a pair of sneakers and run up to Madeline's room only to drag her downstairs. In no time at all, you've got her car keys in your fist and are already half way out the door. "Isabelle, what do you want?" Madeline sighs, chuckling a little. "Jen wants me to go to her house and I have no way of getting there I need your help, Maddie please!" You ramble, drawing out the 'e' in please. She smirks a little, before unlocking her car and almost shoving you into the passenger seat. "God, you moron. Of course I'll drive you. I know how much you like her." "Thanks, Madeline." Your smile is impossible to stifle, and you probably look like a fool. Not that you care. Madeline had realized your infatuation with Jen before you, and to this day, you honestly don't know how. When she drops you off, you can't help but wonder why Jennifer wanted to see you. You frown to yourself as you walk up to her building, pausing at the door to press the button to her apartment. Leaning into the speaker you mumble, "Jen, it's me," "Hey Is. I'll let you up." Her smile is practically audible even through the speaker's crackle. The door unlocks, and you step inside the building. You quickly jog over to the elevator. As you press the button for her floor, your nerves overpower you— they always do when you're going to see Jen. You arrive on her floor, shakily walking towards her apartment and knock on the door. When she opens it, flashing those bright white teeth at you, you can't help but let a smile of your own creep onto your face. "Hey, Is!" she exclaims and engulfs you in an enthusiastic hug. You return the tight embrace, grinning like an idiot into her shoulder. The sound of your voice is muffled by Jen's shirt as you reply. "Hey, Jen." She releases you and immediately your body misses the welcoming warmth of hers. "Why did you want to see me?" You ask, frowning slightly. "I just wanted to see you." She flashes an amused look. "You're cute when you frown." Your frown turns into a smile that's accompanied by a slight blush, which just grows darker as Jennifer grabs your hand and pulls you into her apartment. She almost drags you to the couch and sits you down. She smiles at you, that god-damn smile that makes you all warm on the inside, and leans forward to pick up her TV remote. She switches on the giant-screened monster that probably cost more than her apartment's rent. "What do you want to watch?" She asks. "And don't say 'Project Runway'. I refuse to sit through another episode." "It's a good show!" You exclaim, rolling your eyes at the gorgeous girl in front of you. "It's utter garbage, Isabelle Fuhrman, and you know it." She states, as 'Keeping up with the Kardashians' comes on the TV. "Coming from someone who watches this?" You smirk, watching as Jen gets almost sucked into the show, her eyebrows raising slightly whenever something questionable happens. "Hey, Is?" Jen asks. "Yeah?" You reply. "Go get me a soda." She commands, her ocean blue eyes still glued to the TV. You chuckle a little, standing up and walking towards Jen's kitchen, opening the door. You quickly walk over to her fridge, opening it, before realising that there isn't anything to get for her. "Uh, Jen?" You call. "Yeah?" She replies, her head popping out from behind the door. "You have no drinks in here. You're going to have to either have water or get off your ass and buy some." You state. "No!" She exclaims, dragging out the word until she's starved of breath, dramatically throwing herself on the floor. "I will not leave this apartment, and you cannot make me." "Drink tap water, then." You reply, desperately trying to pull the older girl up off the floor. "I will not drink that tasteless swill, Miss Fuhrman. I simply will not." She shouts in an over-exaggerated British accent, using her weight against you. She stays put on the vinyl floor, laughing at you as you try to get her into a standing up position. You then notice the smirk playing on her lips, and your eyes widen as she pulls you down, catching you in her strong, supporting arms before you land face-first on the floor. You can't help but be reminded of the first time you and Jen ever really talked, when you filmed the feast scene with her. In the middle of filming, she'd jokingly flipped you up, catching you. You'd laughed then. That was before you'd fallen for her. "Is, are you alright?" Jen asks, her angelic voice snapping you out of your daydream. "Uh, yeah." You say, weakly smiling at her. You shuffle away from the older girl, still accompanying her on the cold kitchen floor. "I know I haven't called lately. I've been busy with publicity things and seeing Nick." She pipes up, looking at you apologetically. "It's perfectly fine, Jen. I understand." You reply, faking a smile, thanking your acting skills. "I missed you." She mutters, looking up, her blue orbs locking on you. "I missed you too." You state. "A lot, actually." She starts grinning like an absolute fool. "Good. I was starting to think my little Isabelle had forgotten about me." You can't conceal the blush that forces itself on your face, her words spinning around in your mind. My little Isabelle. "Of course I didn't, Jen." Her grin couldn't get wider. "Well, what have you been up to? What's been going on in the life of Isabelle?" "Nothing, really. I hung out with Callan, studied for my finals. The usual." You shrug. "Ooh!" Jen exclaims. "Has little Izzy got a boyfriend?" You blush twice as hard, the stupid pet name making you feel even more embarrassed. "I'll take that as a yes." She teases, nudging you with her knee. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just really close." You reply, glaring at her. "And don't call me 'Izzy'." "Aw, you're so cute, trying to be all menacing!" She coos. You have to refrain from blurting out a "You're cute too.". "Shut up." You mutter. You're sure your face looks just like a tomato right now. "Okay, I'll stop teasing." She says, holding her hands up in surrender. You honestly don't mind it when Jen teases you. You like having her undivided attention. It really doesn't matter what you do with Jen. Any moment could seem like an eternity. Right now could last forever, as long as you're with her. You could never get her. You know this. You're not living in a fantasy realm where you'll end up with your true love. This is the real world, and you need to get over yourself. You're not even going to try and ask her out. It's better that way. You wouldn't get hurt. You can admire her from afar. You value your friendship with her too much. You'll keep your little daydream in your head, where it's safe. That way, you'll never have to lose. Saturday 7th of December, 2013. You're sat in your bedroom. Madeline is busy doing a live-stream for her fans. Your friends are all busy. You just came home from an audition. You're starting to get busy again. Now you feel Jen's pain. You're now studying for school, completing work, stressing way too much about tiny little things. You're surprised when there's a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom promised she wouldn't bother you, your dad went out, and Madeline is occupied. You have no idea who it could be. You're thrilled when the door cracks open and the gorgeous face of Jennifer Lawrence peeks inside. "Oh, good. You're not stark naked." She states, confidently striding into your room, sitting next to you on your bed. You're a little shocked, but you manage to compose yourself enough to shoot back a comment. "Don't act like you don't want to see me in the nude, Lawrence." "Sorry Fuhrman, I like dick." She says, rolling her eyes. You're painfully aware of how true the before statement is. "So, what're you doing?" She asks. "Just studying, doing homework. Trying not to throw myself off of the nearest cliff." You sigh, looking up at her. "Lame. Let's go out." She announces. "I can't, I have to do my school work." You state. She rolls her eyes, shuffling closer to you. "C'mon, Is. Please?" "Nope." You mutter, trying to ignore the devastatingly attractive woman in front of you. She stands up, and you're suddenly whisked off your bed, slung over Jen's shoulder and carried out of your room. You struggle against her and the butterflies that are raging in your stomach, until she sets you down at the top of the staircase. "Now, are you going to be mature and come with me, or be a boring nerd and sit by yourself all day?" She asks, a gentle tone to her voice. "I'm going to be mature and study." You reply, stalking off towards your room door. Jen grabs you around the waist and hoists you over her shoulder again. "You're coming with me." You fight against her. "Put me down, Jen." She doesn't budge. "I mean it. I know how to use a knife!" "Ah, little Izzy. You're so cute." She simply responds, as she walks you past your rather shocked looking mother. "I'm just taking her for a walk, Mrs Fuhrman. We'll be back before you know it." "Jennifer Shrader Lawrence, this is kidnapping." You shout, pounding your fists against her back as she carries you out of your house and across the front lawn, towards her car. She plops you down in the passenger seat of her car, buckling you in, before running around to the driver's side and getting in, locking the doors. "You need to get out more, Fuhrman." She states, grinning at me. "You need to calm down, Lawrence." You reply, facing forwards as she starts up the car. She pulls out of her parking position, biting down on her lip in concentration, looking terribly adorable. Once she's driving you up the street, she turns to you, still half looking at the road. "Isabelle, are you okay?" "I will be if you concentrate on driving." You state. She rolls her eyes at the statement, yet begins to focus on the road. "Seriously, something is on your mind. Talk to me." She urges. "I don't think so." You mutter, looking out of the window, desperately trying to occupy yourself with something other than the beautiful girl driving. "Isabelle, please." She begs. "Can we not just have a good time together?" You reply, refusing to look at the taller girl. "Okay, I'll drop it." She sighs. "But you need to know that I'm here for you, okay?" "I know, Jen. I just can't." You whisper, looking up to see a frustrated Jennifer Lawrence glaring at other drivers. For the rest of the drive, you're in a comfortable silence. It's surprising, really, how Jen can make you feel better just by being there, even though she's the source of your problem. She's the missing puzzle piece in your life. You need her to complete the picture. You need her to complete you. Jen pulls up at a quiet park. There's couples on dates, and for a split second, your mind falls into a trap. You scold yourself for even thinking that Jen wants to take you on a date. She's twenty-three, in a relationship, and devastatingly 're sixteen, single, and well, not the best looking girl around, but you're comfortable with how you look. You hear the click of the car doors unlocking, and you unbuckle your seat belt. You reach out to open the door, but to your surprise, it's opened for you. Jennifer smiles at you as you get out, shutting the door behind you and locking her car. She takes hold of your hand, the usual sparks almost electrifying your entire body. She leads you to a silent strip of grass, letting go of your hand. "Wait here." You nod, entranced by the older girl's voice. When she starts to walk off, your heart pulls. What if she leaves you here? What if this is all a big prank? You stand and worry for what feels like an eternity, until you see Jennifer Lawrence's faint outline coming closer to you. When the before mentioned girl is stood in front of you, she lays out a blanket on the grass. "Sit." She commands. You comply, sitting down on the rough red and green blanket. Out of nowhere, Jen produces a picnic basket. "What the hell? Where did that come from?" You ask in surprise. "My car's trunk." She shrugs nonchalantly, hiding a smirk. "Oh, so you just happened to have a picnic basket waiting there? It's almost like you planned this kidnapping." You joke. A little laugh arises from Jen, and you smile. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. What's it to you?" She replies, unloading a couple of sandwiches and passing them to you. She then pulls out another pair of sandwiches and places them on the paper plate before her. You glance at them. All the food you could think of is crammed in those things. Bacon, cheese, tomato, baloney; you even think you spot little chunks of pizza in there, too. You compare it to yours. Really, there aren't any similarities. Yours is a slice of lettuce placed neatly between two slices of bread. Hers is this massive king's feast rammed in a bun. Jen notices you frowning at the food. "Sorry, don't know what vegans eat." "I'm not vegan." You state. "Yes you are." Jen replies. "No…my mom is, but I'm not. I eat vegan food sometimes, but that doesn't make me a vegan, Jen." You laugh. "Oh…sorry. Well, if you eat vegan food, have fun with your lettuce." She shrugs, biting into her monster of a sandwich. "Jen!" You exclaim. "What?!" She mimics your tone, smirking. "I'm not eating a sandwich that consists of just once bit of lettuce." You argue. "Then starve." "Hey!" You exclaim, unable to wipe the grin off your face. "I'm not sharing. I'm Jennifer Lawrence, I don't share food. Get your own." She states. "Sorry, but I can't magic up picnic baskets whenever I want." You shoot back. "Nope, not sharing." says Jen. "C'mon, you share your food with Nick." You add, trying not to spit out his name in disgust. "Well, you don't have sex with me when we meet up. Sorry." She says as casual as ever. Your jaw drops. Jen notices, and bursts out laughing. "I was totally kidding, oh my god! I can't believe you fell for that!" You frown at her, while she sits and laughs her ass off at you. She soon calms, noticing your knitted brows. "Here, take this." She passes you the other half of the sandwich that she's eating, and you smile thankfully. "Take your lettuce back." You say, taking it out of the bread bun and throwing it at her. "It touched me!" She shouts. Impersonating the Wicked Witch of the West, she screams "I'm melting! I'm melting!" as loud as she possibly can. Once she's shut up, you shuffle next to her, resting your head on her shoulder. "Why did you bring me here?" "I needed an escape." She admits. "An escape from what?" You ask. "Life." She sighs. "It's so busy right now. I'm so stressed, Is. I can't do it." "I can relate to you there. I'm starting to get busy again, too." You respond. "So you see why I brought you?" She asks. "Mhm." You nod. "I just needed a bit of peace, and you're the only one I felt like I could do that with. All Nick talks about is promoting the next X-Men movie." She adds. "He's not good enough for you." You mutter, not intending for Jen to hear. "How so?" She asks. "Well…you're funny, pretty, you don't care about money, you care about living your dream and acting, and you're a little crazy at times. He's the opposite. He's boring, not attractive, and probably only cares about how much money he earns." You rant. "I don't appreciate you bad-mouthing my boyfriend, but thanks for being so sweet, Is." Jen grins, ruffling your hair. You both turn your heads when you hear a shout. Some guy chasing after a girl, disrupting the park's gentle silence. "Wow, what a douche." You comment. "I agree. That girl must've been desperate." Jen adds. You exchange a glance with her, before you both burst out laughing. "I'm thankful that Nick isn't like that." Jen states. "This is why I don't have a boyfriend." You respond. Well, it's half the truth. You're not telling Jen that you'd rather have a girlfriend, namely her. "Aside from moments like that, you're missing out." says Jen. "I mean, you get someone to cuddle with, make out with, go on dates with. It's nice." "I don't really care about making out with guys. I've only done it once and that doesn't appeal to me. I see what you mean with the cuddling, though." You admit. Your stomach growls, and you realise you haven't even started on your sandwich. You take a bite, and you suddenly understand why Jen wouldn't share. It's delicious. You devour the sandwich, before looking up at Jen. "Jen, that was great." "You think so? Nice to know professional chef Fuhrman approves of my work." laughs Jen. You roll your eyes, peering in the picnic basket to see it empty. "You needed an entire picnic basket to bring two sandwiches?" "No. I needed an entire picnic basket to bring one sandwich and a pathetic vegan meal." Jen replies. "Are you calling my mom pathetic? Sorry she's not a carnivore like you." You state. "Fuhrman, you just ate half a sandwich that would probably be classed as a heart attack in a bun, and you're calling me a carnivore?" Jen shoots at you. "I didn't call you a carnivore, what're you talking about?" You play dumb, a trick that always annoys Jen. "YES YOU DID STOP MESSING ABOUT FUHRMAN DO YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME WELL YOU'RE DUMB FUCK YOU TOO." Jen yells this as one long word, and you're almost unable to decipher it. "Fine, I admit it." You sigh. "Good." Jen says. "You don't need to shout." You respond. "Shut up." "Right back at you." You both start to laugh. She wraps an arm around you, picking up the 'pathetic vegan meal' and dumping it back in the basket. "C'mon, I told your mom we'd be back fairly soon and it's nearly been two hours, believe it or not. There's a half hour drive back to your house." "Oh, you're returning me now?" You smirk at her. "Yeah, I should let you study." She smiles, standing up and offering you her hand. You take it, letting her pull you up, rolling up the blanket for her and carrying it back to her car. On the walk back, you pass a little jewellery store. "Oh my god! Isabelle, isn't this necklace beautiful?" Jen exclaims. You walk over to her, glancing through the window at it. "It's pretty." "God, it's $3000. I'm not paying that for a necklace. But it's so gorgeous!" Jen argues with herself. You chuckle a little, shaking your head, before heading back towards Jen's car. Jen arrives a few seconds after you, picnic basket in hand. You wait for the click of the unlocked car, lifting the door to the trunk up and putting the blanket in. Jen places the picnic basket in next to it, and you shut the trunk, getting into the car on the passenger side. Jen joins you, turning the key and jolting the life into the car, zooming the two of you down the road. You drive back to your house in a comfortable silence. Discreetly eyeing Jen, you spend the entire journey mesmerised by her beauty. As she drops you off, she pulls you into a tight hug. "Thanks for today, Is." She whispers in your ear. You hug her back. "You're welcome." Tuesday 31st of December, 2013 You stagger around the bar, searching for Jen. She'd brought you out tonight to some bar party. You were perfectly fine until her boyfriend showed up. That's when you went a little overboard with the alcohol. You managed to get away with it. Jen bought you whatever you asked for. She didn't really care. She was too busy with Nicholas Hoult. So here you are. You're drunk off your head, and most likely the youngest person in this place. You heard that alcohol numbs pain. Whoever told you that was right. You aren't thinking about Jen ditching you for her boyfriend. You aren't thinking about how Jen should be with you. All you're thinking about is getting out of this place. You want to go home. You're scared. You don't know what time it is, or where you are. You know none of the many cheery and very drunk people around you. You're alone in this place. People start to shout. This scares you more. Your senses are jumbled, your mind is a broken up jigsaw. You don't know where to go. When you see that familiar face, her beautiful face, you run over. Well, more like stumble over, throwing yourself into her arms. "Jen!" You slur. "Isabelle? Who got you drunk?" Jen asks, shocked. "You did, silly!" You giggle, snuggling your face into her neck. "I…I did…I'm so sorry, Is." apologises Jen. "I wanted to be drunk." You hiccup. "What? Why?" She frowns. "You were kissing that dumb Nick and it made me sad!" You exclaim. "Why?" Jen is confused; even your drunk self can sense that. "Because I love you! I want you to be mine." You shout happily. "Isabelle, you're insane." Jen states, looking away. "I need to get you out of here." People begin counting down. You realise it's about to hit midnight. With your alcohol borrowed confidence, you bravely look up at Jen. She frowns at you. Everyone around you finally hits zero on their countdown, and you lean up with all your might and crash your lips against Jen's. For a brief moment, you swear you feel her kissing you back, before she abruptly pulls away. "You're too drunk for words." She mutters, shaking her head. "Kisses with Jen!" You proclaim, waving your hands up in the air like an utter madman. Your surroundings are blurred, and Jen stands up, holding you in her arms. She escorts you out of the bar, but not before walking over to Nick. You glare at him. "I'm taking her home. She's completely gone." Jen says, basically carrying you. "She's my girlfriend now! You're dumb." You snarl at him. "I think she's gone insane." Jen adds. "Alright. I'll see you later." Nick smiles at her, looking down and frowning at you. Jen escorts you to her car, sitting you down in the passenger seat and buckling you in. "Stay." You nod, staring at her happily. When she sits down in the driver's seat, you wrap your arms around her and refuse to let go. "Isabelle Fuhrman, please get your drunken ass off of me." Jen states, pushing you back to your seat. "I love you, Jen." You whimper. "I love you too, now sit still." Jen replies. "But you don't love me the way I love you." You persist. "Isabelle, you're drunk. You don't love me like that, okay? Go to sleep, sweetie." She whispers, stroking your hair softly. You yawn, nodding your head, resting it on the window. Your eyelids droop, and you feel yourself dropping off into what will probably be a deep sleep. "Night night Jen." "Goodnight, sweetie." Wednesday 1st of January, 2014 You wake up in your bed, confused as to how you got there. Your head is pounding; an after effect of the alcohol. When you feel a body next to you, pressed up against you, you freeze. You turn your head, and you're met by the gorgeous Jennifer Lawrence staring back at you with her crystal clear blue eyes. "Hey there." She smiles. "Hi." You say. "What time is it?" "7:30pm on Wednesday." She replies. "I was asleep for that long?" You exclaim. "Yeah. I'll go get you some water and an aspirin. Your head must hurt. Wait, can sixteen year olds have aspirin?" rambles Jen. "Yeah, we can." You respond. "Alright. I'll be back soon." promises Jen. She walks out of the room, leaving you alone. You sit, searching through your scrambled up brain, trying to remember what happened last night. You fail. All you can bring up is Jen making out with him. The thought sickens you, so you push it out of your mind. Jen walks back into the room, water and the tablets in hand. She passes you the cup, and you quickly swallow the aspirin with the water. "Thank you." You smile. "You're welcome." Jen returns your smile with an enthusiastic grin. "I take it you brought me here?" You ask. "Yeah. You got kind of crazy." She responds, looking down at the floor. "What?" You frown. "Jen, what did I do?" "You kissed me." She sighs. Your eyes widen. Fear attacks you from every direction. Now she knows. She knows of your affections. She'll leave you. She may even hate you. "I…uh…I'm sorry." You squeak. "It's fine. You were drunk as hell, you were bound to do something stupid." She chuckles. You sigh in relief. "You're not mad?" "Of course not!" laughs Jen. "I mean, it's not as if you actually like me like that." "Yeah." You lie. "That'd be awkward." "Anyways, I'm going to put a movie on." Jen announces. "Where do you keep your DVDs?" "In the secret drawer under my bed." You lift up the duvet to reveal it. Jen nods, bending over and pulling it open, scanning over your movies. "Orphan? Really, Isabelle?" "They gave me one free prior the DVD release. It's not like I watch it!" You exclaim. "I bet you watch it every day. It's probably your guilty pleasure movie or something." Jen accuses, giggling. "Shut up." You mutter. "You're basically admitting it." She states. "I'm not admitting a thing, aside from the obvious fact that you're an idiot." You reply. She gasps in mock offence. "Isabelle Fuhrman! No longer consider us friends. You have offended me deeply." "Jennifer Lawrence…you're a dork." You laugh, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous twenty three year old. She scoffs at you, picking up your 'The Hunger Games' DVD. "And you have this? You self-centred bitch." "I have that because I've loved The Hunger Games since I was 13. I'm allowed to watch it." You argue. Jen walks over to your DVD player, inserting the disk. "Fine, you want to watch your own movie? Well, you got it, kid." "I never said-" You begin. "I don't care. Now shove over and let me watch." Jen says, sitting down on your bed. You shuffle over for her, and she clambers under the covers next to you. You smile to yourself as an arm wraps around your waist. You snuggle up to your friend, taking in the scent of strawberries that always seems to emit from her. You both sit in silence. You feel magical being held in her arms. It's like no other feeling in this world. You look up to see her smiling down at you. "You're cute when you're not being a brat." She comments, making you giggle. "Thanks, I guess." You say, grinning. You both go quiet again. All you can feel is a sense of security; it's hard not to with Jen's arm around you protectively, her fingers tracing patterns on your delicate skin. It's almost as if you're…together. You shouldn't think that. You know it's wrong. She's 23. You're 16, almost 17. It could never work. As the movie you're both in rolls onwards, Jen suddenly speaks up. "Hey look, it's little miss self-centred!" She exclaims, pointing at your image on the screen, sitting on top of her. Ah, the day you fell for the girl. You laugh half-heartedly; you know she's only teasing, but sometimes when Jen makes comments like that, your heart can't help but hurt. "I'm sorry. You're the most down-to-earth girl on this planet, Is. You know I'm kidding." Jen tries to make amends. You smile at her. "It's okay." She breathes out a sigh of relief. "Good. I thought my little Isabelle was mad at me." "I could never be mad at you, you know that." You reply. She squeezes you with the arm that's protectively around your skinny waist, turning back to the TV screen. "You know," She laughs, "Sometimes I feel like I'm going to snap you in half you're that thin." "Uh…is that a compliment?" You frown. "Take it as one." She nods, kissing your forehead. "You need to rest." "But I want to watch the movie!" You whine. "Too bad, I'm going to head off, anyway. Rest." She states. "Don't go." You beg. "I still have a really bad headache." "I don't have any more clothes. I can't sleep in this t-shirt again." She responds. You jump up a little too quickly, which doesn't help your pounding headache. You walk over to the drawer where your pyjamas are kept. You tug it open, getting out an oversized shirt that your Aunt bought you. She'd got the wrong size by mistake. You also grab a pair of your pyjama shorts. They may be a little tight, but she'll have to make do. "Here." You say. You throw the pyjamas at Jen. "Isabelle, I really should go." Jen sighs. "Please…stay." You whimper, looking at her with your kaleidoscope puppy-dog eyes. She sits looking a little conflicted for a while. She looks down at the pyjamas on her lap. You see her shoulders rise up and back down again due to the loud sigh that escapes her. A thoughtful looking Jen glances over at you. "Fine. I'll stay." You beam at her, sitting back down on your bed. "Thank you." She takes a strand of your long, charcoal hair and twiddles it around between two fingers. "Where can I go to change?" "Uh…it would make sense for you to use the bathroom. It's down the hall, the second door on your right." You direct. "Alright. I'll be back." You watch her leave, waiting until she shuts the door behind herself. You then delve into the abyss of blankets that is your bed. You snuggle yourself up, getting comfortable, leaving enough room for Jen to get in. When the before mentioned girl re-enters the room, you smile up at her. She just rolls her eyes back at you, sliding under the sheets. You shuffle over slightly, trying to get close to the taller girl. "Isabelle, do you want me to hold you?" She sighs. You smile sheepishly. "Yeah." She shuffles closer to you, pulling your small body into her strong arms. You bury your head into the crook of her neck. You feel your eyelids drooping, and Jen chuckles. "You're cute when you're sleepy." "Night, Jen." It comes out in a tired mumble. She leans down, gently pressing her soft lips to your forehead. "Night, Is." Thursday 27th of February, 2014. It was your 17th birthday two days ago. Jen texted you that day. She'd told you that 'Her little Chihuahua was growing up too fast.' She thinks you're grown up. This is perfect. You can finally make a move. You don't know how you're going to go about this. You turn to the relationship expert; Madeline Fuhrman. You knock on her room door, waiting for her tired response. As she gives it, you open her room door and walk inside to see your very lazy sister sat up in bed, her bangs, heck, her whole head of hair is askew. "What?" She sighs. You breathe in. "I'm going to tell Jen how I feel and I need your help." "With?" She questions. "Well…I don't know how to do it. I've never done anything remotely like this before." You whisper. "You have two options: Flirt endlessly and hope she catches on, or just straight out tell her how you feel." says Madeline. "I can't flirt, so that's ruled out. Besides, the second option is more romantic." You shrug. "Are you really doing this?" She asks. "Yes. She thinks I'm grown up now, I have a chance." You're determined, your forehead creasing and your brows knitting together. "Isabelle, you're 17. You're still too young for her. Just keep her as a friend, it'll be better that way." Madeline tries to persuade you, but you're not listening. "I don't want her as just a friend, I want her to be my girlfriend!" You exclaim. "Are you forgetting that she has a boyfriend? She wouldn't cheat on him." Madeline points out. "She could break up with him." You reason. "Isabelle, she's fucking straight. You need to respect that. She has a boyfriend and she's happy with him. Leave her alone." Madeline yells. "I don't give a damn! I've wanted her for nearly three years, Madeline." You shout back, storming towards the door. "You're making a huge mistake, Isabelle!" Madeline shouts after you. You turn, rage burning into every fibre of your being. You glare at Madeline. "I don't give a fuck." You spit at her. Her eyes widen, and she watches after you in shock as you stomp out of her room and slam the door behind you. You can't believe your sister. You can't fucking believe how she told you to not go for it. Does she not realise how pained you've been, watching Jen date that fucking asshole for the past few years, when it should be you. The British bastard doesn't deserve her. You deserve her. You storm into your bedroom, slamming the door shut at hurricane speeds. You pick up your phone, furiously dialling Jen's number, punching the touch-screen on it. The phone begins to ring, and when she answers, you breathe deeply. "Jen, I need to come over." "Okay…will Madeline be giving you a ride or shall I pick you up?" She questions. "I would greatly appreciate you picking me up." You say, calmly breathing in and out. "Alright, I'll be there in a half hour." She replies. "Okay." You hang up quickly, flopping down on your bed, trying to calm yourself. You will not let Madeline ruin your day. Not this day. When Jen finally arrives, you step out of your room, shoving past Madeline on the landing and storming down the stairs. You hastily pull a pair of old sneakers on, running out of the door before your annoying older sister can stop you. You jog over to Jen's Volkswagen, climbing in the passenger seat. "Is, are you okay?" Jen asks, a concerned half-smile lingering on her gorgeous face. "Just drive." You state, staring away from Jen, your house, and everything that could cause your brain to have a nuclear meltdown. She complies, pulling out from her parking spot outside your house, and heading down the open road. "What happened?" She inquires. "I had a fight with my sister." You whisper. "Really? But you guys are like, inseparable." Jen comments. Sarcasm laced in your voice, you muster up a reply. "Yep, totally." "I'll look after you, Is." Jen smiles. "Thanks." You state. You decide to sit in silence for the rest of the drive, refusing conversation with Jen. Once you're parked outside her apartment building, you climb out of the car and engulf the Oscar winning actress in a bear hug. "Thanks for getting me out of there." You breathe into her shoulder. "You're welcome, Is." She replies happily, squeezing you tightly, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you walk up to her apartment. She unlocks the door, and you both walk into her home, you shutting the door behind you. She strolls over to the couch, as casual as ever. She sits down, patting the space next to her. You follow her lead, getting yourself comfortable on Jen's sofa. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks. "About what?" You frown. "Your fight with Madeline." She responds, eyebrows raised. "No. I don't think that's a good idea, I'd probably get even sadder." You sigh. "Okay. Would you like a drink?" She questions. "That'd be nice. I'll have a soda." You reply. "I only have Pepsi, is that good?" She asks, standing up and walking towards the kitchen door. "Yeah, that's fine." You nod. Jen disappears off into her kitchen, and you hear a little shuffling about, and a fridge door shutting. "Do you want it in a glass or is the can good?" "The can is fine." You call back. Jen reappears in the living room, passing you the cold can. You smile thankfully. You open the drink, almost downing the thing on the first sip. Jen wraps an arm around you, smiling. "Talk to me, Is. You seem kind of sad lately. I want to know what's up." She sighs. You swallow another mouthful of your drink, looking up at her. "I just…I like someone." "Aw! You've got a crush." Jen giggles. "It's a lot more than that, trust me." You sigh in exasperation. "Wait…you're in love?" gasps Jen. "Yes." You whisper. "For how long?" She persists. "Nearly 3 years. Probably a little less than that, because of the whole 'crush developing into love' stage." You shrug. "Well? Who's the lucky guy?" She presses. "Uh…I don't think I should say." You murmur. "C'mon, Is! I'm dying here!" Jen exclaims. "Well…it's not a guy." You whisper. Jen withdraws her arm from around you. "What?" "I said it isn't a guy. I like a girl." You explain. Jen stays silent. "I do like guys, I just like girls too." You continue. "Okay…what's her name?" Jen asks. "Well…it's you, Jen." You reply. "What?" Jen's face is expressionless. It's impossible to read. "Are you okay?" You frown. "Our whole friendship…it was a lie?" Jen questions, a hurt tone creeping into her voice. "No…Jen, what're you thinking? Of course it wasn't, I-" "You just wanted to get in my pants." Jen snaps. You stare at her in shock. The older girl glares at you. "You don't care about me. You just wanted to have sex with me." Jen growls, shoving you away from her. "Jen, please! That's not what it is at all!" You exclaim. "You're a liar. I hate liars." Jen shouts. "I'm not lying, I swear!" You scream back through the mess of tears. "I love you." "Stop lying. That's fucking disgusting, Isabelle Fuhrman. You're fucking disgusting." Jen yells. "Jen, stop!" You plead, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. "Get the fuck out." She snaps, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. She drags you over to the door, throwing you towards it like a bag of garbage. "Now." You don't. You fall to the ground, sobbing, wishing Jen would stop and become the comforting, friendly version of herself. Through your sobs, you choke out one word. "Please." Jen looks at you, anger, hurt and disgust swimming in her ocean blue irises. She then turns away from you. With her voice so casually cruel, she spits at you, "Get out." You shakily stand up, looking over to Jen whose back is still facing you. "I'm sorry." You choke out as your final goodbye, opening the door by the cold handle. As you close the door behind you, your whole world comes crashing down. You violently start to sob. You sink down to a sitting position, your back against Jen's hard, wooden door, hiding your head between your knees. You sit in that position for what feels like an eternity. The only thing you feel in the crushing pain from Jen's harsh comments, and the feeling of a broken heart. You'll never get over this. She's the only person you'll ever feel that way about. You should've listened to Madeline. You should've kept her a daydream. You wouldn't have lost her if you had. You slowly traipse down the stairs. You feel…broken. You lost your closest friend. You lost the one person that could always brighten up your day. As you leave Jen's apartment building, you pull out your phone. The tears aren't falling anymore. You're fairly certain you've cried yourself dry. The pain is still as horrible as ever. You call your sister. You can't walk home from Santa Monica. "Isabelle? Is, I'm really sorry for yelling at you." Madeline apologises down the line. You just sigh. "Can you pick me up?" "Sure. I'll be there as soon as possible." She replies. You hang up after that quick exchange, taking a seat on the curb. You pathetically hang your head, wiping away the shed tears. You sit there in silence. You don't move an inch. You just stare at your feet until your sister pulls up in her car. Then, you stand up and climb in, not saying a word to the older Fuhrman. "She rejected you, didn't she?" Madeline states. You don't face her, or tell her that she was right. You just nod. "I'm so sorry, Is." She whispers, pulling you in for a hug. You stay unresponsive. You don't even hug her back. You're too broken. For the rest of the journey, you ignore Madeline. You don't want to utter a single word. You know you'll just break down. You're a mess already. You're too pained to even try. You just need a release. And sadly, you find one. Monday 21st of April, 2014. When you were younger, you thought being in love was stupid. You never thought you'd need it. You always wanted to grow up alone. You thought it'd be more fun. Now you realise how desperately someone's heart aches when they're in love. You've experienced it for nearly 3 years. You know how constant the heartache is. That it only goes away when you're spending precious hours with the one you love. You still believe you and Jen are soul mates. You have to be together in some way. Not necessarily in a romantic way. You'd settle for just friends right now. You're itching to see her. You haven't seen her for nearly two months. The pain is still fresh from all those bitter and hateful words she'd spat at you. The wound is still bleeding. You don't think it'll ever stop. Without Jen, you've slowly fallen into a rut. A deep one that you can't seem to get out of. You've become sadder and sadder. You barely speak now, and when you do, it comes out in a broken whisper. There's a missing piece in your heart, and without her, you'll always feel empty. Not even your friends can help. The ever so bubbly Jackie Emerson had come round a few times, but again, not even she could help, and she's pretty much the dictionary's definition of happy. You know it's impossible. Not only did Jen spew some painful accusations at you, but you lost her, and that's all your fault. You're a fuck up. You're worthless. You're no good to anybody. All you do is get in the way. Jen is the only thing you can actually think about. All you do is sit and think about what she's doing right now. Is she watching the Kardashians? Most likely. Is she filming a movie? Buying a new place? You know how she's always wanted to buy a house and take a few years to just relax. You don't leave your bedroom. You sit on your computer, scrolling through pictures of her, because that's as close as you're ever going to get to her again. You stare at gorgeous pictures of her, where she's smiling and happy. That's how she used to act with you. You and her would've been great together. You constantly hear the last words Jen ever said to you, echoing through your head. It's driving you insane. "You don't care about me." "You're a liar. I hate liars." "You're fucking disgusting." With her words ringing in your ears, you don't even hesitate to think about what you're going to do. You roll up your sleeves, glancing at the scars on your wrist. You stare at them for a moment. You don't know what's become of you. A year ago today, you probably would have been happy and smiling and hanging out with your friends. You mind jumps back to the scars on your wrists. Jen's voice starts echoing around in your mind. "You're fucking disgusting." You know she's right. Looking down at the cuts, you scratch at them. The pain is soothing. You reopen a few recent cuts, and you watch hungrily as little droplets of scarlet run down your arm. It distracts you from her voice, the one that's constantly ringing in your ears, tormenting you for your affections. All you're focusing on is the burning sensation you're eliciting from your arm. Not her, and her sea blue eyes, her goofy smile, her choppy pixie cut. You remove your fingernails from the deepened cuts, until the burning stops and you feel the urge to go back in. The sound of Jen's laugh echoes in your head, and for a second, you feel as if everything is okay. You feel like she's with you, holding you in those supportive, strong arms. Then, everything stops. You feel alone again. Alone and broken. You walk over to your bed, submerging yourself in the protective sheets. It's the closest thing you get to security, even though you're barely able to get sleep anymore. Being in your bed is the only place where you don't feel lost. You're safe. It's familiar. It reminds you of the time she stayed with you. Friday 15th August, 2014. You've gotten so much worse. You can't think straight; you've lost all of your willpower. The only thing you dragged yourself out of the house for was to buy Jen a birthday present. You have to make it perfect for her because you love her. You go to a little jewellery store in Downtown L.A. You browse for a while, before you spot it. The necklace. It's gorgeous, the one Jen pointed out to you when you went on that picnic, god knows how long ago. You can't believe it's still here. However, it's still $3,000. You don't care. You pick it up carefully, gripping it in your hand. When you lay it on the counter, the lady working behind it scoffs at you. "Young lady, this necklace is $3000. You'll need the cash up front." She says, judging you from behind her glasses that are perched on the end of her nose. "Do you take cards?" You ask. "Yes, I'll just presume in advance that you don't-" She's cut off by you pulling out your bank card from your pocket. You place it on the counter. The woman scans your card, and her eyes suddenly widen. "Is there a problem?" You ask. "Would it be rude to ask how you have all of this money?" She replies, looking at you in amazement. You shrug. "I'm an actress." The woman nods, and once you've paid for the necklace, you walk out of the store and hop back in Madeline's car. Madeline, who has been waiting for you to finish, frowns at you. "Where to now?" "Santa Monica." You state, smiling to yourself. It's the first time you've smiled in a long time. Because of this, it almost looks manic. Madeline just drives, and once you arrive, you hop out of her car, grabbing the necklace and the card you'd written earlier, and head towards Jen's Volkswagen. You walk over, smiling when you see that the passenger side window is open just enough for you to slip the card and present through. You take in the familiar surroundings. You see Jen's apartment building, the smell of the freshly cut grass that's in front of it. The gentle, warm Santa Monica breeze runs through your hair as you think about all the times you'd come here and felt welcome. You honestly feel like a stranger now. You hope that this will make Jen talk to you again. You've missed her so much you're actually going insane. You stare over at one of the windows of her apartment for a while, sweltering in the jumper you're wearing. You can't wear t-shirts anymore. Your only release has caused this. As you walk back over to Madeline's car, you sigh a little. Even if you and Jen did try to reconnect, would it be the same? You really hope so. Suddenly, your mind congers up an idea. You run towards Jen's building, pressing the button that calls up to her apartment. When you hear her voice, that voice, the one that's always whispering negative comments in the back of your mind, you nearly start to sob. You don't, however; you're too broken for that. You're a broken shell of a girl who just wanted to love and be loved. "Hello!" Jen's cheerful voice beams through the speaker. You try to choke out a single word, but you're too overwhelmed. You see your sister out of the corner of your eye, her jaw dropped in astonishment. Confusion leaking into the happy tone, Jen asks, "Is anyone there?" That's when you run. You dart towards Madeline's car, hopping into the passenger seat. You start to cry your eyes out, both in happiness and sadness at hearing her voice, the voice you fell in love with. Madeline pulls you into her arms. It doesn't do much to comfort you. Peering over Madeline's shoulder, you see it. Jennifer Lawrence heading towards her car. You gulp, your eyes fixating on her, taking in every single movement she makes, every breath she inhales. It both numbs and creates pain. You really don't know how that works. As she unlocks her car, you see the shocked expression on her face when she notices the present. She picks up the card, examining it for a second, before digging her fingernails into the envelope and ripping it open. When those gorgeous blue eyes that you used to get lost in scan over it, they widen. Jen looks around herself. It's almost like she wants to make sure you're not around. Then, she takes to the present. When she lifts the lid off of the box the necklace is concealed in, she nearly drops it in shock. You see her lips form the words "Oh my god!" as she carefully handles the jewellery, examining it in disbelief, almost as if she's imagining things. You then see a little smile cross Jen's face, and for a second, you think everything is going to be okay. That's until her expression drops into a frown, and you immediately break yourself free from Madeline's grip. "Drive." You choke. You feel another wave of tears threatening to drown you. Madeline does as you say without hesitation. You watch Jen as she stands there, obviously thinking about how much she hates you, and how you ruined it all. You're a fuck up. You're worthless. You're no good to anybody. All you do is get in the way. You feel a clenching pain in your heart as the car zooms off. Madeline drives you down this road for a second time, with you feeling nothing but pain. Thursday 25th of December, 2014. Nobody bothers with you anymore. You were made to come home to Washington D.C the other day. Your Aunts, Uncles and Cousins all live down here. This time last year, you would've been excited. Now you just don't care. Last year, you were so happy that it was Christmas, excluding how you forgot to put up the tree until Christmas Eve. You knew just what you wanted, and you even saw Jen a few days prior to that. This year, it's the opposite. You don't give a damn that it's Christmas. You ignored your mom and Madeline when they asked you to help decorate the tree. Your parents didn't bother buying you anything special, and you have to admit that it made you feel worse. Normally you'll get something great from them. The worst thing about this Christmas is that you didn't get a present from Jen. Not even a card. Now you know she hates you. However, you sent her one. You wanted her Christmas to be perfect. You'd bought her a $400 dollar gift card to her favourite restaurant that's just on the coast of Santa Monica. You just know she'll love it. Maybe then she'll love you. You and Jen are like strangers now. It's almost as if you were never friends. This hurts you more than anything. It's horrible. She acts as if you're dead to her. You still worship the ground she walks on. It's going too far. You can't think straight, and it's killing you. You and Jen had built up a friendship that when broken, it ended up building a wreck out of you. Nothing makes sense to you anymore. Little things cause serious damage. You want it all to stop. Her voice, the one that's echoing in your skull 24/7, you need it to stop. It's agonising. You feel an unbearable pain; a stabbing, aching pain in your heart that's attacking you day by day, breaking you down a little bit more. You can't help still hear her voice ringing in your ears. Over time, it's gotten louder. It's tormenting you, hurting you. It's whispering sickeningly soft words that lash at you like a belt. In response, you dig your fingernails into the soft, pale skin of your wrist, ripping through it, burning it, slashing it. Giving yourself the pain you deserve for being such a fuck up; the pain you need if you ever want the hurt to leave is addicting. You can't help it. Whenever you hear her voice in your head, your sanity slips further out of your grasp. You're not sure how much longer you can take it. Tuesday 3rd January 2015. You like to think about Jen a lot. You remember when you were home alone this time, and she'd called you up. It's like she knew. She was always so great to you. Now all you hear from her is harsh words in the back of your mind. The voice is getting much louder. You're slightly unhinged now, as your dad had said to the relatives on Christmas Day. That hurt. You remember how happy Jen's voice used to make you. How your mood would always be uplifted by just the sound of her saying "hello!" You really did love her. You still do, actually. You sometimes struggle to recall why you're even fighting with her. Then you realise it's because of you and you nearly break down. You don't know why she'd even thought that you'd pretend to be her friend. You love her. You wouldn't do anything as hurtful as that to her. You really care about her. She should've known that in the first place. Maybe you weren't as close to Jen as you'd previously thought. You don't really know what to think. You wish she'd given you a real reason as to why she's left you. Everything has come to calamity. Jennifer Shrader Lawrence has well and truly destroyed you. She's turned you into the wreck that you are. You're just the unhinged teenager who used to have her dream job but not her dream girl. It's a shame really, isn't it? Wednesday 25th February 2015. You're 18 today. You're legally an adult in the state of California. It's unbelievable, really. Two years ago you were a happy, upbeat sixteen year old who loved life and where it was taking you. Now, you're a depressed, grumpy, lonely eighteen year old who just doesn't care. Before, you had such a passion for acting. Recently, you've turned down any movies offered to you. You haven't gone to any auditions for almost a year. It's not that you don't want to act anymore, it's just…you physically can't. You lack so much of the energy you used to have. The little energy you have left, you waste that on sending someone who doesn't even like you expensive gifts in the hope that you can buy her back. You're so close to ending it all. Since it's your birthday, your mom decided it'd be a great idea to make you go down the Santa Monica pier for the afternoon with her, your dad and sister. So, you'd all piled in the car and driven down. You really didn't want to, but you're not going to object. You don't talk anymore, unless it's a fan that is coming over and asking for a photo. The loss of Jen has reduced you to a motionless corpse of the girl you once were. You're stood on the pier, watching as your parents and sister enjoy your birthday more than you are. You decide to go for a walk. No one will even notice you're gone, you're that quiet. You walk away from the busy, bumbling pier that's buzzing with inhabitants on this fairly warm day, and make your escape down the surprisingly calm road. You daydream for a little while, just wandering. You let your feet take you wherever they want. You look around, taking in the wonderful Santa Monica, the one place that used to make you so happy. You look back towards the pier. In contrast to where you are now, it's so busy. It's filled with noise, people enjoying themselves. You're in a quiet little street corner, standing and staring at everyone having fun with their lives and enjoying themselves on your birthday. It's your birthday, and you're upset. It's your birthday, and all you're filled with is suicidal thoughts. There's a small light in you, deep down, the compressed, covered up girl you used to be, screaming at you not to do anything stupid. However, there's a niggling in the back of your mind, in her voice, sneering at you, shooting you with painful remarks. Begging you to do something dumb. It's really quite sad that it's that voice you'd rather listen to. What shocks you is when the same voice speaks up from behind you. "Isabelle?" Curiosity overcomes you, and you turn. At first, you think the gorgeous girl in front of you is a hallucination. You've finally gone mad. You're seeing things. You look around, wondering if the few passers-by can see her too, before training your eyes back on her. "Jen?" You question. Awkwardly waving her hand, she greets you. "Hey." "Hello." You reply, your voice unbelievably raspy from lack of use. "How have you been?" She asks. You don't reply. You just stare at her. You really don't believe that she's actually here. She walks closer to you. This stuns you slightly, and you stagger backwards a little in shock. She reaches her hand out towards you, waving it in front of your glassy, glazed over eyes. "Earth to Isabelle?" "What?" Your voice is scratchy. Jen notices this, wincing a little. "What happened to you?" She whispers in fascination, reaching a hand out to touch your skin that's so parched of sunlight it's turned a sickly white colour. "You look so sick." "You…uh…you…" You trail off. You're unable to find the words to even describe the pain you feel, and have felt over the past year. "I did what, sweetie?" Jen inquires. Hearing her call you "sweetie" makes your heart flip. It reminds you of all the times you and Jen used to spend together, the laughs you'd shared. It makes you think of how she held you that night she'd gotten you drunk. You know, after refreshing your memory, you almost can remember the kiss you'd shared with her on New Years. All of this somehow reassures you to say what you say next. With a crack in your voice, you force out, "You broke me." Jen doesn't even flinch; she probably already knew. She nods in understanding, clearing her throat. "I see." Her watery blue eyes pierce directly into your green orbs. "I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You hurt me, and I had every right to say the things I did." You start to cry. The tears start falling down your cheeks, blurring your vision. "You still think I was pretending to be your friend…" "You were. Don't lie to me." This one comment makes you snap. You finally fucking snap. After a year of hurt and self-destruction, you finally scream and break down. "Jennifer Lawrence, don't you fucking dare. Don't you dare accuse me of lying to you. I fucking loved you. I still do. Why the fuck do you think I've spent $3,400 trying to make you fucking happy? You broke my heart. Can't you see what you've done? And you don't even have the heart to apologise to me. I thought we were friends. I thought you'd support me when I told you how I really felt. I thought you'd be nice about it, like you are to every other person you meet. Do you enjoy hurting me, Jennifer? Even when we were friends, you'd talk about Nick and it'd kill me. I hated seeing how happy you were with him. I wanted to make you that happy." You then yank up the sleeve of the jumper you're wearing, revealing the sickly white flesh that's littered with scars. "This is what you did to me." She looks away. That's all you can see through the blur of tears. "Fucking look!" You scream. She directs her gaze back to the wreck she's made of you, noticeably wincing as you yell at her. "This is what you did to me. You ruined my fucking life. You destroyed me. You made me into this monster. I hope you're happy, Jennifer. I really fucking do." Before you can storm off with the rage that's nearly burning you to death, she pulls you back to her. You refuse to look at her. "Isabelle." She whispers, her voice shaking. "Isabelle, look at me." You look up, and she wipes your eyes clean of the salty tears that are pouring out. Your vision focuses on her, and you realise that she's struggling to keep tears at bay. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for anything like this to happen." Her voice is quiet, barely even a whisper. "I am so fucking sorry, Isabelle Fuhrman." You blink in disbelief, and she chuckles behind the tears that have started to drop. "You were always the closest thing I had to a little sister. You are such a sweetheart. You know that, right?" You shake your head in confusion, cocking it to the side in an almost childlike manner. "Well you are. I can't believe I hurt you as much as I did." She mumbles, stroking through your charcoal like hair with her gentle fingers. "You have to understand that I am so fucking sorry, but we can't go back to how it used to be. I know that I'll just be hurting you more, and I can't do that. It's best you move on, Isabelle." "But I don't think I can." You choke. "Try. Find a nice girl, and go and be happy with her." Jen soothes. "I can't remember what being happy is like." You murmur. Jen looks almost heartbroken. "We can't go back, okay? Understand that. We just can't." You look up at her, desperately searching for a reason to make her stay. You know you can't find one. You know she's right. You can't be happy with or without her. You don't think you can ever be happy again. With Jen, you'd constantly be jealous. You'd be angry at her boyfriend all the time. You'd be hurting to see her with someone other than yourself. Without Jen, it'd be exactly like the past year has been, forever. You don't tell her this. You don't want her to stick around just because she pities you. That would hurt more than her leaving. "I understand." You whimper. "Good. I don't want you to take what I'm about to do out of context, okay? I'm doing this to say goodbye." She whispers. You stare at her in confusion, and she cups your face in her hands. "I care about you so much, sweetie. Never forget that." She whispers, leaning in and pressing her lips onto yours. Finally, you feel alive again. It's like nothing else exists other than you and Jen. No one is around, it's just the two of you. The kiss tastes salty; mainly due to how the two of you are crying bucket loads. When she pulls away, you know what's going to happen. "Goodbye, Isabelle Fuhrman." Jen whispers, her face so close to yours you can feel her every breath. For the first time in what feels like forever, you crack a genuine smile; its only small, but the best that'll happen in a moment like this. "Goodbye, Jennifer Lawrence." She smiles back with that goofy grin you love so much, letting go of you for the last time. She turns away from you, and casually walks off down the street, lifting her hands up to her eyes every now and then to wipe away her tears. You watch until Jen becomes merely a silhouette in the distance. You stand for a moment, noticing the silence in your head. After all of that, they've finally stopped. Jen's voice has finally stopped echoing in your mind, driving you to insanity. Glad for this, you smile after the taller girl who is now out of sight and silently thank her, before turning back around and walking back towards the pier and your family. Suddenly, it's like a weight has been lifted of your chest. You're on good terms with Jen. At least that's one good thing that's happened. The girl who made your life an unfixable wreck doesn't hate you anymore. That's comforting. In a way, you're almost glad that this has happened. Her voice is no longer spitting hateful words at you in your mind. You got to kiss the girl you've loved for such a long time. However, this doesn't make everything else okay. Your life will be a little less hard, maybe, now that you know Jen doesn't hate you. But it'll still be tough. You don't have your best friend anymore. Not having her over the past year has turned you into what you are now, and you're worried you might get worse. You shake your head, and continue walking towards the pier. Your mom and dad are now in sight, Madeline nowhere to be seen. She's probably off riding some dumb ride. Your mom walks over to you, not even noticing your previous absence. Typical. Little things like that have begun to cut deep. It makes you feel as if you're not wanted. "Did you have a nice day?" She smiles at you. "Uh…" You try to smile back, but it comes out as an awkward grimace. "Yes." You want to at least try and make her happy. You owe her at that. It's not her fault she has a fucked up daughter. Sunday 15th of March, 2015. You're bad. You're really bad. Your aunt and uncle had come down for a visit. They'd just found out that you're bi. They'd said something that caused you to run upstairs, where you are now. You're having your breakdown because when they'd asked if what your sister had slipped out was true, you'd denied. Your aunt had turned to you. "Don't lie. Nobody likes a liar." You'd had a sudden flashback to the day you'd broken. The day your fight with Jen started. This is when you'd ran. And now you're up in your room, sobbing. You don't know what to do, who to call. You delve under the covers of your bed, concealing yourself from this fucked up world. You curl up into the tightest ball you could possibly make yourself into, trying to feel secure, letting the tears out, trying to stop yourself from moving your fingernails to your wrist. That's when your hand comes in contact with your cold phone. You grab it, dialling the first number to come to your mind, holding it to your ear. As it rings and rings, you're suddenly cut off, and you look down to the caller ID. Jennifer Lawrence. You call her back, and she answers you, hissing an "Isabelle, go away. We're not friends." down the line, before cutting you off once again. You reply with a strangled sob, throwing your phone down and digging your razor sharp nails into your wrist, nearly crying out at the feeling of them puncturing your skin. After you've nearly ripped your arm to shreds, pull yourself out of bed, storming down the stairs. You open the door to the living room, looking at your parents and sister. "I'm going out. I love you guys, I'll see you." You don't wait for their responses. You open the door, walking out of it. As your rage overcomes you once more, you stalk off down the street, ignoring anybody who you shove into. You don't care about them. You don't even care about yourself anymore. You walk for god knows how long. Your legs are aching, your heart is beating itself against your rib cage. Your breathing is heavy, you're struggling for air. This is all until you come to an abrupt stop. You're at the edge of a very steep cliff. You glance down, taking in the jagged rocks at the bottom. The wind almost pushes you away from the edge, begging you not to do anything stupid. You look at the crashing waves. You know that if you step over the edge, you'll either drown, or be shredded to death by the razor sharp boulders. You swallow the lump that's in your throat. You take in a deep breath. As you slowly close your eyelids, the last thing you feel is the powerful wind rushing through your long, charcoal locks. 


End file.
